


Lust

by yourelectriclove



Series: Even’s thoughts. [2]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Smut, even and his beautiful mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:47:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourelectriclove/pseuds/yourelectriclove
Summary: What’s your idea of lust?this is Even’s.





	Lust

**Author's Note:**

> even has a beautiful mind and beautiful thoughts so I wrote this

Lust is a funny thing, it’s something you can’t avoid most of the time, most of the time for Even anyway. 

He guesses it’s a huge part of falling in love with someone, although you don’t always need to be sexually attracted to someone to love them, you can love them for them, for the way they talk, the way they think, the way they smile and laugh and just live. 

Even has never known lust like this before, has never felt the urge to be this close to someone before, has never felt like if he doesn’t touch this person soon he’s going to melt into the ground and stay there forever, the need to just touch Isak, is almost unbearable sometimes. 

He’s a touchy person, has never been one to not show his emotions, whereas Isak used to be the opposite, Isak used to be so enclosed he was like a locked book, the key lost years beforehand, a huge task to get him to open up so Even could read and learn and fall in love with what was written on the pages and scribbled in the margins. 

Touch is part of lust he supposes, have you ever touched someone and your heart feels like it’s about to burst through your ribcage and fall into that persons hands? 

Have you ever traced along their skin and connected the freckles with your fingertips and kissed your love for them through your lips onto their chest? 

Holding someone’s hand isn’t supposed to be sexual, it’s quite beautiful really, Even has to hold his breath so he doesn’t cry every time Isak tangles their fingers together, when he gives him a secret smile and rests his head on Even’s shoulder, gently playing with his fingertips, their hands resting in Isak’s lap, it’s a safety blanket, it’s a comfort unlike any Even has even discovered before. 

Holding hands with him is one of life’s free pleasures, sometimes better than any form of sex, have you ever just lay with someone you’re so astounded by that every breath he takes and every flutter he does with his eyelashes you feel the need to thank god that you found him? 

Have you ever pulled that person in your lap, and just hold, and hold, and continue to hold them until his breath evens out and his forehead smoothes and all the stress of the day leaves his body as he’s laying on top of you? 

Have you ever just watched him sleep, watch him breath and hold your hand over his heart as is thuds gently against the veins on your wrist, and you think to yourself, god, I’m so screwed. 

Even understands the joys of love, understands the underlining hope and the trust and pure happiness that comes with being in love with someone as special as Isak. 

Though, he also understands the responsibility, he understands that you’re suddenly not the most important person in your life anymore, you accept that you’d do anything to see this boy happy, do anything just to feel his skin under your fingertips and to press your palm over his chest and feel the comforting beat of his once heavy heart. 

Sometimes, that’s better than sex, just lying there, letting your thoughts wonder, letting him snuggle into your chest and press his button nose into your hoodie and you watch him breath you in, and you realise you’re his comfort blanket too.

Isak couldn’t understand a lot of emotions, almost felt ashamed, always waiting for Even to make the first move, until one day he wasn’t. 

It was precious, precious in a cute way and precious in a way that Even will always treasure that one night, when they first moved in together and they couldn’t turn their boiler on, and Isak kept on complaining that his toes were cold and said “I’m a scientist Even, how am I meant to work if my hands fall off due to frostbite?” 

He was brave, he hooked his legs over Even’s lap and straddled him with want, purposely digging his cold toes into Even’s thighs, he gripped his hair and tilted his head forward, his eyes almost glazed and his face so pretty underneath their dims lights, when they kissed that night it felt like a vow, although they shared many many kisses before that one, for some reason that was like a wax seal on their relationship, there, on their couch, in their unpacked apartment, with cold toes and fluffy hair and too big sweaters on, their cold noses touching as they kissed, their skin slowly heating up as they touched and felt, as they kissed and moaned and as Isak let himself feel and let himself touch without asking first if it was okay. 

When Even lay Isak back against their cushions that night he felt like he’d found his holy grail, like he’d found his nirvana and ultimate comfort blanket. 

He’d had Isak many ways before that, it would be silly to say he hadn’t, but laying there, with his chest heaving and thighs spread, his toes curling and his fingers tangling themselves through Even’s hair, that’s when he realised what lust was. 

He realised what it was when he licked into his boys mouth, his whimpers making his lips tingle, his teeth biting down on his lips, his thumb pressing into his cheek and pulling just that little bit so Isak would open his mouth more, let Even lick and bite and kiss, his hands couldn’t stop moving, unbuttoning Isak’s jeans with finesse, pulling them past his gorgeous ass and thighs, kissing at his ankles as he threw the jeans somewhere behind his head. 

Isak’s legs, god, he’d make a movie about them, he worships them with the grace that Isak deserves, his inner thighs always so sensitive that he can spend hours teasing them, Isak is shaking, his thighs tensing with the virginal instinct that he’s still got somehow,   
Even ravishes them, leaving a trail of marks so that in the morning Isak will see them and press down on them and pretend he doesn’t love them and the slight pain he gets from them. 

Lust, is when you can’t bare to look away from his eyes, when you place those legs over your shoulders, you grab his hands and pin them over his head, and you press into him with need, you look into his eyes, you whisper into his ear how perfect he is, how beautiful his body is, how good he is for you, you lean down and kiss his neck, you kiss his cheeks and his dainty eyelashes, you kiss and you make fucking love to him, and in that moment you realise that’s lust. 

Lust is when you wake up in the morning, your eyes blinded by the sunlight streaming in through the windows because you were too lazy to shut them last night and Isak is too spoiled to get up out of bed and do it himself, and you see him tidying around the room in his boxers and a t shirt, his socked feet sliding along the floor boards and his little curls bopping along to whatever song he’s listening to on his earphones. 

“Come here baby” you say gently when you catch his attention and he pulls the buds from his ears and jumps on top of you, and his thighs are a little cold and his toes poke into your belly but you love him so much you can’t stop touching and wanting to be touched by him. 

Lust can be anything but sexual, and he knows that falling in love and falling in lust are two completely different things, and he understands that from the moment he lay eyes on Isak he was completely and utterly screwed, because he knew for a fact, that his life was going to change. 

He pities those who have not experienced Isak, and at the beginning, he only wanted Isak to himself, afraid that someone will look at Isak the way he does so intensely, but he’s learned that like everything in life , you cannot hold possession over something as bright and beautiful as Isak Valtersen. 

How selfish is it to think that in this world he can be Isak’s everything? 

Instead, he tries to be everything he is, everything he can give to him, he will, and everything Isak is he, Isak will give to him too. 

They are two people, two souls that have bonded together in a knot so tight it would impossible to untangle, and he finds that he doesn’t care, because it’s beautiful, falling in love so willingly, so immensely, is like every big bang in the universe pulling together and exploding in the palm of their hands that are tangled together, for as long as Isak doesn’t loosen his grip.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback?? suggestions for future subjects even likes to think about?


End file.
